


Take me up, take me down, show me what you got

by yuki013



Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: Alcohol, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Anal Fingering, Anal Sex, Drunken Kissing, Explicit Language, Foreplay, M/M, Praise Kink, Sex Toys, Strangers to Lovers, Sweet/Hot, Voyeurism, Webcam/Video Chat Sex, bokuaka for the plot, kuroken but blink and you'll mis it, no kink shaming it's just oikawa speaking for himself, or something close, soft iwaizumi for the soul
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-05-10
Updated: 2020-06-06
Packaged: 2021-03-03 03:01:09
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 13,393
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24107905
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/yuki013/pseuds/yuki013
Summary: He had clicked on the ad, hoping not to get some weird virus on his computer. Instead, a new window had opened on what seemed to be a camming website profile. There was a short bio, stating how often the streamer would be live, and a link to his Twitter account. [...] He had no idea where he was going with this, but there was something mysterious and fascinating about this guy with the body of an athlete and the eloquence of a wall (if his tweets were giving anything away), something that made him want to find out more. Plus, watching was for free. Trying once wouldn't hurt, right?
Relationships: Akaashi Keiji/Bokuto Koutarou, Iwaizumi Hajime/Oikawa Tooru
Comments: 37
Kudos: 323





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Hell-o!
> 
> Here I am again after...let's say, a long time without writing anything significant.  
> This story was born in summer 2019 and I can't believe it took me this long to finish it. It was originally a Twitter thread, you can find it [here](https://twitter.com/yukizerotredici/status/1157036515224170497) if you prefer.  
> There will be a shorter extra later on, so they can embarass each other more and do the frickity frack.
> 
> Until then, stay safe. Enjoy. 🐲

In hindsight, he should have known this was a very, very bad idea to start with. Yes, he’s always careful to double check the door lock before fetching his laptop, or try the headphones with some music first before turning the volume all the way up. Yet there’s a voice in his head, a constant paranoid whisper at the back of his mind, stressing about how this situation is somehow bound to get him into trouble. First, if his flatmates find out how he spends his nights thrice a week, they would never let him live it down. Oikawa shivers at the idea, thinking about the teasing he would have to face if Kuroo and Sawamura were to bust him.  
A notification on his phone screen lights up the room, startling him. He has notifications turned on to make sure he doesn’t miss a tweet.

killingxguns: Live in 10. Ready for the show? 💪

Oikawa can't help but giggle at the text. There’s always something incredibly funny in the way this person writes.  
Since he was a teen he has never been a big fan of porn. He didn’t see the point of watching someone have sex if he wasn’t part of that. When he had tried to use porn while masturbating, the orgasm had always felt a bit uncomfortable. Then he had started dating later on, women and men alike – though at some point he had stuck to men only. In the end he would watch stuff only if he was too horny, bored, or out of fantasies.  
It was in one of those occasions, a couple months before, that he stumbled upon killingxguns' profile. He had just clicked on a video titled 'hot twink gets spanked' just ‘cause he felt like that’s what floated his boat on that particular day. The ad in between had made him stop from clicking away. It was the GIF of a toned chest rising and falling slowly, with a large hand splayed on it moving towards the hem of grey briefs and up again. Nothing explicit if compared to the rest of the website. But there was something captivating about the movement, and Oikawa found himself unable to look away.  
He had clicked on the ad, hoping not to get some weird virus on his computer. Instead, a new window had opened on what seemed to be a camming website profile. There was a short bio, stating how often the streamer would be live, and a link to his Twitter account. Oikawa had followed him using his second account - of course he did have a second Twitter - and patiently waited for the live, taking place two days later. He had no idea where he was going with this, but there was something mysterious and fascinating about this guy with the body of an athlete and the eloquence of a wall (if his tweets were giving anything away), something that made him want to find out more. Plus, watching was for free. Trying once wouldn't hurt, right?  
Truth was he had been hooked on Guns' shows ever since. On that first live he had come so hard he’d had sneak into the laundry to wash his clothes afterwards – and all along, Guns' movements had walked him through it. The guy would never talk, only moaning hoarsely sometimes, but he certainly had other ways to keep his watchers entertained. To start with, his body was enough of an eye candy just to look at. And oh, did Oikawa like what he saw. He had also learnt that no tips meant a lot of teasing and no action at all.  
On that first show, someone had tipped very generously and Tooru had started to sweat when Guns began to move his hand over his clothed crotch, a light blue jockstrap getting visibly wet by the minute. His movements were controlled, no rush in them. One hell of a tease. Every time he moved around, his abs would contract and expand in a way that made Oikawa swallow thick air. Gosh, the guy was so his type. The fact that he could not see his face and barely hear soft gasps from the other side of the screen was somehow a major turn on, as if he was not supposed to be there, watching another person masturbate in the privacy of their room. Which was the whole point of camming, but it didn't matter back then. Oikawa's only focus was on the outline of Guns' cock, and the ringing noise of tips coming in.  
The guy also had a habit of replying to his fans. Oikawa noticed some of them must have been around for a while, as they would say hi and talk about previous streams. Guns would reply nicely every time, smirking to the cam. So, technically, it was rude of Oikawa to watch and enjoy the show without giving anything back in return. He wasn't such an asshole. Right? Right. He had set up his credit card and tipped a good amount to start with, at least to compensate for the good time he was having.  
An automated pop-up with a bicep emoji thanked him from the chat, and he sent a virtual wink just to make clear he wasn't some weirdo with no face (which he was, but at least he was trying to participate). Guns had stopped his teasing and moved one of his hands away. Soon enough, a message popped up in the chat.

killingxguns: @hornyalien new around here? 

Oikawa would lie if he said he didn't panic then and there. He had looked at the keyboard like it was going to bite him at any time. Some other messages popped up over that one, too. After a couple of minutes, he finally started typing. It wasn't like anybody could see him, so why being shy? He could have been a bulky DILF in his forties with sexy grey hair, and no one could have guessed otherwise.

hornyalien: here to stay I guess ¯\\_(ツ)_/¯

As soon as he sent the message, he cursed himself for how stupid it sounded. There went his sexy daddy cover. On the screen, Guns laughed shortly, distracting him from the fool he'd just made of himself. Instead, he focused on the hand out of frame moving fast on the keyboard.

killingxguns: Cool. First time tippers always get to make a request. Go on

Oikawa had to read that twice, then one more time, to make sure he did understand the words. He looked at the screen, where a hand was dancing on the hem of the underwear, then back to the chat. His own hand inevitably started palming the erection through the fabric of his briefs - which, he realized, happened to be of a very similar colour of the jockstrap worn by the guy on screen. It would have been hot to imagine someone masturbating with his underwear, wouldn't it?

hornyalien: oh...well it's a strange request but

hornyalien: can you take off your jockstrap and get off with it

His bulky hottie cover was probably gone by then, so he had added-

hornyalien: pretty please ;)

Oikawa was so focused on the chat that he almost missed the whispered 'fuck' coming from his headphones. 

In another room, another city who knew where, Iwaizumi had started to imagine things. Slowly it had become a habit, to visualize all of his viewers as his types. He was perfectly aware that his public included some weird people, people way older than him, and other creeps who he would rather not think about. But he needed the money – plus, not seeing the face of his watchers made it easier for him to imagine, to fantasize about their appearance.  
And it was incredibly easy to form a picture of this hornyalien guy from his writing alone. A young man, possibly a nerd - who nicknames himself hornyalien, seriously? Maybe with glasses on, smooth skin, oversized hoodie, and a pretty cock peeking up from underneath.  
He couldn't stop the 'fuck' as he read the last message of said guy. His mind supplied him with the fantasy of a faceless man on his knees, hands splayed on Iwaizumi's thighs, asking him to cum on his thin glasses, "pretty please".  
Notifications from the chat started to pop up. Other viewers were tipping like crazy. It was going to be a good one, he thought. Then, he had slowly pushed his underwear all the way down, struggling a bit not to kick the camera. With the blue underwear in his hand, cock half hard, he had typed:

killingxguns: @hornyalien watch me.  
  
Oikawa didn't hear those words, but through the typing alone they made him shiver - well, the fact that he was looking at Guns' erection at the same time might have been the reason why. He had pulled down his own underwear, low enough to stroke the tip of his cock with his fingertips, his eyes staying on the screen. He had spent the following ten minutes in a daze, focused completely on the soft moans coming out of his headphones. In his mind, the underwear in Guns' hand was his own. The gasps and shivering were all for him. Every slow stroke was. Every bucking up inside a closed fist. He had wanted to suck on that cock to the point that he had come way before the performer, cloudy eyes still following the way Guns' wrist moved and come spurting in little drops all over that ripped body.

Another ding in the present snaps him out of his fantasy, this time it comes from the camming website. The notification reads “killingxguns is Live! 💪” in bright orange letters. Oikawa clicks on it at the speed of light. As the new page buffers, he fixes the volume of his laptop and checks – again, god this is stupid – that his door is safely locked. Then he grabs the tissue box and settles comfortably in his padded chair, smiling when a familiar body appears on screen.  
Today his favourite streamer is in a pair of classic black boxer shorts and a grey t-shirt. His face is, as usual, off screen. He must be hunched over a table or desk, typing quickly the usual greetings to his viewers. Oikawa closes his eyes and for a moment imagines big hands with trimmed nails moving from the keyboard to his skin, stroking all the good places, cupping his face and combing through his hair. Then he realizes he hasn’t said hi yet, and quickly types away without forgetting his signature wink emoticon.  
Maybe he should find another hobby. Maybe, he spends way too much on this unknown guy, sending him stuff from his wishlist to a PO box who knows where and tipping away his weekly wages just to get some online attention. Can he be considered a sugar daddy without actually being a daddy? Well, what’s done is done. If avoiding expensive coffee frappuccinos three times a day is the price to pay to see Guns’ shows, he’ll pay it. Screw the caffeine high.

[Public chatroom]

killingxguns: I’ve got a surprise for you today

killingxguns: you know how this works 

Then an automated message pops up in the chat. It’s the usual recap of tippers and tips amount, followed by an action triggered by a certain tip. 50 coins for stroking, 100 for flashing his ass, stuff like that. Usually there’s an option for him to take his clothes off, too, but today there’s none. Today, Guns wants everyone’s attention to focus on what he’s brought to the stream only.  
A fleshlight. Oikawa has never seen one up close, only on sex toys websites. He knows what it does, and he’s already imagining how good it must feel to use one of those things on yourself. If they were less expensive, and if he didn’t prioritize basic human needs – and tipping this guy, of course – over his kinks, he would have bought one ages ago. Instead he’s stuck with his old-fashioned fist since he was old enough to know what an erection is. But watching Guns use one on himself? That’s another thing.  
Plus, he knows about fleshlights because he’s been on those websites before. He bought from them. It’s just that the actual idea of using what he bought on himself somehow had always embarrassed him. Which is stupid, because he’s had anal sex before. It’s not about the size, or the amount of time passed since the last time he felt anything larger than a finger up his ass. It’s not like he’s shy about sex, either. Perhaps it is about the knowledge of not having anyone to cuddle afterwards, no one to share warmth with or whisper silly nothings to until you both fall asleep.  
Truth is, he’s a sap. Under all the façade and shameless flirting, he’s a true romantic. He wants to find a boyfriend and do couple things, like trying new recipes to impress his partner or driving somewhere at 3AM just to watch the stars. He wants to be a shoulder to lean on, to be pampered and to spoil rotten in return. Oikawa doesn’t think there’s anything wrong with that, but he’s a gay man, and that possibly makes things more complicated than if he were straight. None of his hook-ups were ever looking for a stable relationship, and those who said they did had at some point gone into arranged marriage or gravitated towards younger, less let’s-tie-the-knot fuck buddies. So perhaps he was a little sad and desperate over this whole love thing. If he couldn’t have love, at least he could have the fantasy of it.  
Damn, he’s gotten lost in his thoughts again and almost missed Guns replying to him (“@.hornyalien, happy to see you here”, for the record). The streamer does reply to everyone that says hi though, even more so if they’re regulars. This doesn’t stop Oikawa from smiling at the screen as he sends a couple of small tips one after another. Others join him, someone asks in the chat about the toys Guns owns, if he’s ever used any on his partners. 

killingxguns: not on others, no. but I can’t say I wouldn’t like to

killingxguns: maybe one day, with the right guy

killingxguns: or girl, who knows

Okay, so here’s another thing. Oikawa has been looking for clues anywhere, but he’s never found a single trace that the guy plays for his same team. Guns never stated his preferences on his profile, only that he’s “here to get some steam out of the system and have a good time”. Never left a like to others’ posts on Twitter. There’s plenty of men who star in gay porn or work in gay bars without actually being gay, right? Moreover, Oikawa has never been the type to assume someone’s sexual preference just because of their outer appearance. But this? This changes _everything_. Inside his head, he has now a chance (of course he doesn’t, he’s just a fan watching some random dude masturbate on cam). He could reach out and let himself be known as a young, attractive college bachelor rather than a creepy uncle with a peeping fetish (funny, because he’s pretty sure watching someone touch themselves actually counts as peeping). He could do something about his hopeless crush on this faceless, voiceless man that seems to check all his kink boxes at once.  
Instead, he reaches out for the inside of his wardrobe. He keeps some things stashed away in a box where he wrote “sci-fi stuff” with a black marker. Kuroo had once found it in the open and joked about Oikawa being a geek, but probably never even thought about looking inside. When Tooru started to talk about space he would get a bit out of hand, no wonder Kuroo didn’t want him to ramble for hours about conspiracy theories and X-Files episodes. Instead, Oikawa kept lube and condoms in such a plain box, together with… other stuff he had bought and had never been in the mood to use.  
There, in a simple black and purple carton box, is what he’s been looking for. A realistic dildo, which is the only not-so-cheap thing he has ever bought for his own pleasure. He has only used it once before, for the whole sad thing about instant sexual gratification with immediate self-loathing afterwards reason he’s already reminisced about tonight. However, Guns slowly pouring lube on the inside of the fleshlight has him swallowing air dryly and throw whatever stupid psychological restrain out of the window. He’s horny and he misses the feeling of getting pounded into tomorrow, can anyone really blame him?  
Together with the toy he also retrieves the lube. An almost full bottle, he contemplates bitterly. His ex-boyfriend had left before they managed to use it more than a couple times, and it had been sitting there for – how long, actually? Two, three years? Does lube even expire?  
He’s that desperate, isn’t he.  
When he sits back on the chair, he scrolls through the chatlog, seeing if there’s any comments worth checking. Some people commented lewdly, as expected; some others said they had called it out ages ago. Next to Guns’ username, three dots indicate that he’s writing something. Oikawa uses this time to lube one of his fingers up and slowly push it inside himself, taking his time doing so. He doesn’t rush his movements, just savours the feeling of exploring his own body all over again while imagining larger, rougher hands slowly working him open. He glances at the screen, where a new message from the host has appeared.

killingxguns: a type? I don’t really have one

Oikawa thinks that he must be replying to someone’s question, but he gets distracted again when he somehow manages to touch his prostate. It’s a game of guess and he has no patience, so he inserts another finger and hisses, realizing that perhaps he needed a little more time. Well, too late. He accepts the sting as his punishment and turns his eyes back to the screen.  


killingxguns: as long as they can match my pace

Uh, oh. That is… something. Does he mean someone who can match his life habits? Sex habits? Is this seemingly gentlemanly cammer secretly a kinky top who likes to tie up his boys and spank them on his knees when they don’t do as they’re told? Okay, Oikawa’s fantasy is running wild again, but he’s two fingers deep in his ass and so his brain might be a little occupied to supply him with the notion that he’s definitely being delusional. What his brain does really well, instead, is giving him a clear portrayal of such delusion. This tall, bulky guy forcing him to stand face down ass up on the couch arm as he makes sure Tooru understands how to be a good boy.  
Oikawa whimpers. He vaguely remembers Daichi turning on their console in the living room, so he hopes he hasn’t been found out. With his clean hand he moves one side of the earphones away, listens for any indication of his flatmates barging in. Nothing. 

killingxguns: okay, let’s see if we can get to 5000 tonight. I know you can 

_I know you can_ , he would probably say as he slowly presses a hand on Oikawa’s lower back. He’d be bent and open, and the slap that would come on his ass cheek would sting for days. Make him shiver at the memory of disobeying a command. At the familiar sensation of rough hands hitting his skin hard, then caressing it as an apology. Oikawa would be such a brat to Guns, only to be forced down on his knees and have his throat fucked until it’s sore.  
He can’t help but imagine that, instead of fingering the toy with lube as he’s doing right now, Guns is scissoring him open instead. Oikawa has got slender fingers, but he can make stuff up with his own imagination. If he focuses on Guns’ hands, he can almost perfectly imagine how they would fit inside his body. Oikawa tips in batches of 10 coins each, trying to push back the arousal before he reaches his climax too quickly. He wants to be stuffed, and he wants it to happen as he watches the other fuck into the fleshlight. 

SYSTEM MESSAGE: hornyalien tipped 500

killingxguns: [auto-message] thank you for the tip, hornyalien 💪

killingxguns: [auto-message] Goal reached! | 1000: use toy

Oikawa has never in his life poured lube over a dick so quickly. His fingers are practically dripping (better safe than sorry, right?), his own erection hurts, still half stuck inside his underwear. On screen, he can see Guns fixing his camera so that it doesn’t show his face when he pushes the chair further from the computer. Oikawa always wishes for him to make a mistake, to accidentally see his face while he’s moving things around. He never does. It’s almost unnerving how careful the guy is with maintaining his privacy. Tooru just wants to add a horny face to the man in his fantasies, nothing more.  
For now, he will have to do without. The surface of the dildo is skin smooth, the lube cold against his hole. He waits until the other places the fleshlight carefully over the tip of his cock. Really, Oikawa has seen some dick in his life and he’s pretty confident saying Guns’ is top quality. It’s not a monster, no ass destroyer – thank god. But there’s something in the girth, in the hair growing thick at the base, in its curved shape, that has Oikawa salivating at the sight. Again, he’s really horny and maybe any dick would do. This though, this is what he wants. This is what he _needs_ right now.  
He pushes the dildo in as the other’s shaft slides smoothly inside the toy. And there, low and hidden but impossible to miss, Oikawa hears it: a moan, low and breathy in the deafening silence of his headphones. Enough to have the dildo bottoming out and Tooru already dangerously close to come.  
He does his best to match Guns’ thrusts with his owns, but keeping up the mental image of getting fucked on his desk chair, looking avidly at the screen and remembering to do his viewer’s duty by sending tips is way too much multitasking for horny Tooru. He can’t hear Guns’ voice, just his breaths becoming faster, deeper as he pushes fully inside the toy. Oh, what a scene he’s making. Oikawa wonders how many people are masturbating to this. How many creeps. For a moment, he also wonders if he’s part of the latter group – who is he to judge, after all? Isn’t he doing the same thing, getting off to a stranger touching himself as he wishes to be pegged by such unknown guy? The thought gets replaced by a quiet moan as the dildo slides in just right, just at the perfect angle to make his toes curl. On the screen, his fantasy is bucking up faster into the toy. It’s a trap though. The tip count is around 3000, Oikawa knows by experience that he is going to stop before he cums. Guns said 5000, and 5000 he will get before he allows people to see him come. 

As expected, his movements abruptly stop and one of his hands moves to the keyboard. 

killingxguns: I actually lied, I’ve got another surprise for you tonight

killingxguns: [auto-message] Private show auction ON – Highest bidder wins! First bid 25 coins, lasts 60 seconds

killingxguns: thought you might enjoy some private viewing

…  
_What?_  
“What?”, he says out loud.  
It’s like that one video where the guy faints all over on the rollercoaster and someone added the Windows XP on/off sounds over the audio. Tooru’s brain can only process as much right now. Guns has never, ever in his livestreams – at least since Oikawa has been watching them – offered a private show. Never even replied to people begging him for one, promising to tip huge amounts for a one-on-one. Oikawa didn’t know what was going on and he had just spent thirty precious seconds high-key panicking because _holy shit_ , should he join that? Can he even do that without compromising his monthly budget? He definitely can’t. Whatever, who needs food when you can get virtual dick. _That is beyond the point, Tooru!_

killingxguns: [auto-message] Private show auction ON – 15 seconds left

The dildo inside is ass is mostly forgotten as he scrambles to type away a tip, any tip really, but the tip counter is now above the set goal and he knows he’s not gonna make it. He types 500, hoping no one else already made a higher bid, and watches dreadfully the countdown reach zero.  
The total of the tips now reads 7462, and Tooru knows he’s lost. Someone must have bid a lot to get that counter so high. So, now someone else will get the enjoy Guns’ perfect abs contracting as he gives them a show only meant for one pair of eyes while Tooru will finish in his fist, then clean himself up and go grab a huge tub of ice-cream from the kitchen because life fucking sucks.  
(Oikawa is not checking, but Guns is saying goodbye to his viewers before setting the live to private.

killingxguns: will see everyone else in two days, same time. Thank you for your support 💪)

Once again lost in thought, he doesn’t notice immediately the new notification. He feels a bit pathetic when he looks up at the screen. Guns is still there in all his glory, but a sign on the right corner next to his username states “Private Show in progress”. Weird, Tooru should have been kicked out of the room by now.  
The screen lights up with another message, but it’s not from the public chat this time. Oikawa blinks once, twice at the words displayed on screen.

killingxguns: wow, 5k? that’s a lot, thank you

killingxguns: I see you joined all my live shows lately. Do you have any requests?

killingxguns: reasonable requests, I mean

_What in the actual fuck is going on?!_  
If Oikawa was panicking before, now he’s in full drama mode. He’ still got a plastic dick in his ass, his balls hurt and his online crush/cammer is privately messaging him because he believes Oikawa bid half of his wages away? There’s no way that –  
.

Oh.

Oh, okay.

So, Oikawa did bid. Only, he might have pressed one zero too much.

Did he just become broke over online dick??? 

Not only he did, but now he’s making a fool out of himself by not replying to the chat, probably giving off a creepy vibe and wasting the one time occasion to enjoy Guns show by himself. Maybe his friends are right when they call him an idiot.

killingxguns: are you there?

Oikawa practically jumps on the keyboard, flinches when the toy shifts inside his body. How is he supposed to reply? Should he be honest and admit he never intended to bid so much? For the time being, he just types away random letters so at least the other can see he’s alive.  
_Oikawa Tooru_ , he bumps his head on top of the desk, _you are a joke._  
After a minute of panic typing, he thinks he’s come up with something decent. His fingers tremble when he hits the Send button.

hornyalien: yes i’m here!! i was just…surprised i won, that’s all

hornyalien: uhm, i’d like to hear your voice, but i know that is a no for you so 

Maybe it’s the hormones talking but screw it. He’s so horny right now it hurts. It’s not like this guy and him will ever know each other. Fuck decency.

hornyalien: i’ll make do with riding my dildo instead 

Oikawa regrets it the moment he sends the message out, of course. What a way to sound like some kind of pervert, indeed. Before he can loathe himself further, another message catches his attention.

killingxguns: oh, will you?

killingxguns: care to show me?

_Ohmygoditshappening._ Oikawa would like to scream that yes, of course he would love to show him how he rides this piece of plastic into the sunset as he wishes it was him doing that instead. Is his skin clear? Does his hair look nice? How tidy is his room? Oh damn it, he’s wasting time again.

killingxguns: you don’t have to show your face

killingxguns: just… show me what you’re doing

That much he can do. Surely, his heart is going off like crazy, feels like it could jump out of his skin any time now. But this is what he wanted, isn’t it? To catch his attention, to be looked at. This is the fantasy he’s been getting off to for weeks.  
He quickly makes sure that his neck is out of frame, then goes back to the chat window. Oikawa breathes in, breathes out.

hornyalien: yessir 😉

He presses the camera button and waits for any indication that Guns is watching him. Watching his body. Looking at the flat base of the sex toy stuck inside. But when time goes by and Oikawa sees nothing happen on screen and no incoming messages, he begins to second guess himself. 

hornyalien: not what you expected? 😢

killingxguns: no

Oikawa is about to close this tab and just delete his account forever. He considers himself to be quite attractive, maybe he can be a bit narcissistic at times, but come on, he’s still --

killingxguns: better.

killingxguns: you’re hot.

And wow, Oikawa needs a moment. To reach again towards the toy and to process that he was just complimented by this sexy stranger and those words are all he could ever ask for. It’s a lot to take in in a single evening. 

hornyalien: oh, thanks˜

hornyalien: that makes two of us then 👅

Perhaps chatting and stuffing yourself full at the same time is not a good idea, because Tooru has just pushed the toy really deep and there’s no way his flatmates or the guy on the other side of the screen didn’t hear his moan. But the thing is, he’s imagining Guns’ hard cock hitting his insides and the words “you look hot” whispered in his ear, and he really can’t bother too much about keeping extra quiet. Not when his moaning is apparently doing things to the other. Guns’ pace is faster, it seems like he’s bucking up from his chair into the fleshlight and Tooru would give _anything_ to have that hand squeeze his hips right now, or play with a nipple as he claws broad shoulders to keep them both from slowing down.   
Oikawa’s eyes are glued to the screen, to the solid expanse of chest and abs and thick arms he can see in front of him. Those biceps are shiny with sweat and Oikawa would very much like to lick them, given the chance. His orgasm is close, he can feel it, so he abandons the idea of writing any messages and starts pumping himself in sync with Guns’ thrusts. The other’s room is so quiet that Oikawa can hear the sound of lube and liquids in his headphones as if he was in there with him. He’s sure the hard slap of skin against skin would be just as delicious. Guns’ hand becomes erratic, the other goes to grip under the seat of the chair. God, Oikawa imagines getting pounded that faster, rougher by this guy. Imagines the toy being his cock just about to burst.  
That’s how he comes, legs sprawled with his toes hanging onto the edge of the desk and dildo buried inside him, as white cum shoots over his stomach and pools in his belly button. He shivers with the sensation of orgasm but still cracks an eye open because he wants to see, he can’t be missing this.  
“Oh fuck, I’m coming, fuck -”  
Tooru gasps out loud, jumps from the overstimulation of the toy still inside him. Watches as Guns throws the sleeve somewhere and comes splattering in his closed fist. It’s long, and it’s loud, and Oikawa has heard his voice – deep, gruff and so perfect – and he’s sure that’s all he’ll be masturbating to for months.  
Then, he notices that the webcam moved upwards when he kicked the desk as he came. Did the guy see his face? Was there an infinitely remote possibility that Guns just came because he saw Oikawa coming himself?  
Oikawa is not sure what to think, but fixes the webcam back nonetheless. He jolts when the toy slides out of his overused hole, he’s definitely going to need some ointment there. What if the other was disappointed, or didn’t like his face? He’d rather not find out. Guns in the meantime is cleaning himself with tissues, his breath still quick and chest moving up and down in a steady rhythm. If they were in the same room together, now would probably be the time when Oikawa would kiss the hell out of him because he’s this much of a sap. Instead, all Tooru does is stare at the thick fingers typing expectantly. 

killingxguns: I feel like I just got eclipsed in my own show

killingxguns: that was sexy, thank you for the good time

And oh my god Oikawa, is this really the time to blush? Really? He takes a deep breath and moves his fingers back to the keyboard. He can still feel the orgasm in his nerves, it makes it more difficult to make any sense when typing.

hornyalien: no

hornyalien: i mean

hornyalien: that was definitely a show for me

hornyalien: i’m like, super average ww

hornyalien: I even got to hear your voice

hornyalien: which is super sexy btw

hornyalien: uhm, thank you too

hornyalien: for like, doing this

hornyalien: the streams

hornyalien: and the private show

hornyalien: I haven’t come so hard in a while

Why can’t he just stop himself from doing this? _Oh my god Tooru, stop being such an attention whore!_

killingxguns: me too, you were making some noise there

killingxguns: you’re no average by the way

killingxguns: and… your face was cute.

killingxguns: I gotta go, but I hope to see you in the next shows

killingxguns: until next time.

The streamer logs out before Oikawa can reply. Not that he probably could. He looks at the chat completely dumbstruck, eyes wide and mouth open like a fish.  
Fact number 1: he just had the best orgasm he’s probably had in years, and he wasn’t even in bed with another guy.  
Fact number 2: Guns had seen his face. That was careless of Tooru, but honestly? He wasn’t the one getting paid for jerking off on the internet. Everyone watched porn nowadays, he didn’t have to worry about getting exposed or something.  
Fact number 3: he said Oikawa’s face was cute. He had looked at his humble self and thought “this guy cute, Imma tell ‘im”.  
Oikawa slowly stands up, retrieving a clean pair of underwear from the drawer and putting them on, before falling on his bed face down like a dead weight. Then, he grabs one of his pillows and screams into it. A perfectly reasonable reaction, if anyone asks.  
Damn, he still needs that tub of ice cream after all. 

When Oikawa finally finds it in himself to exit his room to get snacks, he finds Kuroo splayed on the sofa playing some obscure horror game. Sawamura is sitting at the kitchen table with his headphones on, probably getting coursework done.  
“Dude, eww. At least don’t come out of your room straight after you wanked”. Kuroo makes a disgusted face, throwing one of his slippers towards Oikawa’s direction.  
“Rude! I’m sorry, okay? A man has needs!”  
“I don’t want to listen to your needs!”  
“Then don’t, perv!”  
“Leave him alone, he’s frustrated.” Daichi takes his headphones off, relaxing against the chair. “Hasn’t shagged in forever.”  
“Oh, great. I have the worst flatmates in the history of cohabitation. Screw both of you”, cries Tooru, slamming the door of the freezer close.  
“One at a time or together?”. Tetsurou sends him a wink and a kiss.  
“Eww”, they both reply at the same time.  
Living with these two has been, to be completely honest, good so far. Okay, maybe he could do without Kuroo’s cleaning OCD and Sawamura’s awful cooking attempts. But in the end they were all respectful of each other’s boundaries and got along well most of the time. Oikawa would lie if he said he didn’t have fun with the two. If only they weren’t so obnoxious at times.  
Sitting at the dinner table opposite Daichi, Oikawa can’t help but think about what just happened all over again. If his life was a movie, now he would find out that Guns is the very hot neighbour who recognized his face on screen and is about to knock on the door to invite Tooru over and give him the time of his life. He wouldn’t be here, eating cheap mint chocolate ice cream straight from the box and wallowing in the loneliness of his love life.  
“Hey, you know how Daichi just said that you need to get laid?”, chirps Kuroo, turning off the console and walking to the kitchen area.  
“Yes, thank you for the reminder. I don’t know how I would survive without you two constantly reminding me”, puffs out Oikawa.   
“Which is why you’re going to like what I’m about to say.”  
When Kuroo smiles like that, something is about to go terribly wrong. Oikawa has a feeling, and a good amount of first-hand experience (unfortunately).  
“Why do I smell bad decisions and deep regret?”.  
“C’mon. I’m meeting with Bo tomorrow-”  
“You mean, the guy who puked in our flower pot during new year’s party?”, asks Sawamura, raising an eyebrow.  
“Okay, he’s a handful but he’s a good guy. Anyway, he wants me to meet his boyfriend. They’ve been together for a while now, I think he’s committed, but this guy has got a best friend that’s the human version of a gorilla.”  
“Technically speaking, humans were gorillas’ cousins once. If you look in the mirror you can still see the missing link between men and primates”, Tooru mocks him while Daichi giggles in agreement.  
“Anyway! This guy is hot. Like, your idea of hot. Exactly your type. Dark hair, green eyes, ripped, closeted bisexual, the whole package.”  
Oh, maybe Kuroo has his attention after all.  
“Sounds like a snack. What’s the catch?”  
“No catch. But this is where you come into the picture. He’s kind of attached to Bo’s boyfriend at the hip, they were school buddies or something. Bokuto finds him a bit intimidating, I think. But you, my dear alien prince”, Tetsurou circles the table and puts his hands on Oikawa’s shoulders, “you will be there to take out the broom stuck up his ass – A-K-A distract him with your charm and let them enjoy the evening in peace. In other words, you are the key for the BokuAka ship to set sail.”  
“Did you give them a couple nickname?”. Sawamura gives him a disappoined look. “God Kuroo, you need help.”  
“So, what you’re saying is that you’re setting me up with some random guy just so your bro can smooch his boyfriend in peace. I might be desperate at this point, but that still hurts my feelings, you know?”  
Kuroo pushes his back a bit, then smoothly sits next to him. “Look, that was the original plan, until I saw this guy’s pictures. I still think you should give it a try. If you don’t like him you can just make small talk. Sawamura will be there to rescue you if you need.”  
“Oh really? I don’t remember agreeing”.  
“Of course you’ll be there, we need a beast to beat another beast. It will be like… Kong vs. Godzilla.”  
Oikawa smothers his hair with one hand, stands up to plunge the spoon in the sink and put the ice cream back. He leans on the counter, crossing his arms with a frown.  
“If it ends up being another stalker, this time it will be your ass I’ll be giving him instead.”  
“Would you give away my chastity just like that?! I thought I was living with friends but turns out I’m in a pit of vipers.”  
“Bold of you to talk about chastity when you regularly let your childhood friend dominate the shit out of you”, chuckles out Daichi, and Tooru follows.  
For once, Kuroo has no retort and simply leaves them laughing in the room, blabbering that he should soon move out and away from such traitorous people. The thoughts about what has happened just minutes ago completely Oikawa’s mind, even if for a short while. 

On the ride towards the pub, Oikawa fixes his hair for what feels like the millionth time. The taxi is clean and smells of air freshener, puts him at ease over the noisy chatting of Daichi and Tetsurou – they’re both laughing at Bokuto’s desperate requests for them to arrive sooner than soon.  
“Now they’re ordering drinks and this guy is staring at Bo as if he’s about to spike Akaashi’s beer”, Kuroo wheezes, holding his belly. “How am I supposed to keep a straight face when we get there?”  
“Do it for your bro. Either that or perish.”  
“Look who’s talking. You really did try your best, for not wanting to come along.”  
So what? Oikawa is a looker when he puts actual effort in. He’s wearing a light turquoise shirt with the sleeves rolled up to his elbow, a grey tie and comfortable slim jeans of the same colour. That’s the best he’s looked in ages, he can proudly say. Between college assignments and working weekends, he has barely had time to go out for anything fancier than a drink party with other students. Plus, if there’s any chance this scary friend is half as attractive as Kuroo paints him to be, why would Oikawa not look his best in the rare occurrence this is the truth? (Though he highly distrusts Kuroo’s evaluation skills, so his expectations for the evening are kind of low.)  
“What can I say, someone has to look good to compensate how plain you both are.”  
“Yes, keep being sassy all you want. You’re going to thank me later for dragging you out tonight.”  
The taxi pulls over in front of a well-lit, modestly sized restaurant. It’s a place not far from campus, but pricier than pubs and so not as popular among students. There’s a small crowd of people chatting outside, and the three of them enter without having to wait in queue. Inside is quite large but cosy, with low slated roofs and some background music from the 80s.  
“I see Bokuto, they’re at the bar.”  
They walk past the small gathering of people ordering drinks, and Oikawa immediately spots Bokuto – well, it’s kind of difficult not to with that hair colour. There is a guy sitting next to him, with dark curly hair and black glasses framing thin eyes. Oikawa doesn’t manage to ask Kuroo if that is Akaashi because his friend is literally throwing himself into Bokuto’s arms, in one of their stupid bro things that no one apart from them understands. Two brain cells apparently work better as a pair.  
“You remember Oikawa and Sawamura, right? ‘Cause they sure remember you.”  
“Is it about the flower pot?”, asks Bokuto as he shakes hands and smiles to both of them. ”Man I’m really sorry, I said I’d buy you a new one.”  
“No need, we’re good bro. More importantly, won’t you introduce us to your boyfriend?”  
“Of course!”. Oikawa doesn’t miss how Bokuto’s face lights up at the word ‘boyfriend’. He hopes this evening doesn’t make his own life seem sadder than it already is. Oikawa bows his head as Bokuto introduces the other person to everyone, beams when Akaashi shows the smallest hint of a smile.  
“Akaashi Keiji, nice to meet you. Thank you very much for coming tonight, I’ll be in your care”, and he stands up gracefully to bow in their direction. Oikawa must admit that this guy is on another level of pretty. Damn, and he thought he would be the looker tonight.  
The one Oikawa can’t see between them is the famous friend who he’s supposed to keep distracted tonight. Then Bokuto waves his hand and Tooru follows the direction of his eyes towards the restroom doors.  
“Ah, Iwaizumi! Just in time. Let me introduce you to Kuroo and his friends.”  
And wow, Kuroo was right. This guy is so his type. Scratch that, even at the risk of sounding like he hadn’t gotten laid in months (which he, in fact, hadn’t), he would in all honesty eat the guy up right this instant.  
He’s built. Not like a gym rat, more like someone who cares about their general appearance. And that t-shirt he’s wearing is a perfect fit, not too tight to be a show-off, not too loose to let all that hard work go to waste. It clings around his broad shoulders, sharp collarbones left bare where the blue fabric ends in a clean V shape. His jaw is sharp too, but not square. There is something in his features that reminds Oikawa of childhood. His face though is that of a grown man – his eyes, not completely green but also not brown, scrutinizing him and- oh.  
How long has he been looking at him for?  
When his mind comes back to the present, he notices that this stranger is staring at him in a certain way. Oikawa can’t really tell what way it is, but it’s giving him the chills. The _good_ chills.  
“Do we know each other?”  
His voice. Oh, his voice. Oikawa replies on autopilot, says that of course they don’t, he doesn’t remember ever meeting him – someone as attractive as him, supplies his brain. Yeah, in his head, which is where he currently is, having a whole ass fantasy of him pushing this guy against the bar counter and shoving his tongue down that throat until he can taste in his mouth the same kind of alcohol that he can faintly smell on his clothes right now.  
God, he can’t believe Kuroo was right.  
They all move to the reserved area far down the end of the floor. It’s a square wooden table surrounded by planks, all covered with soft red pillows. As they get comfortable, Oikawa finds himself sitting at the far-right corner of the table. In front of him, but not exactly, there is Iwaizumi in all his unfair beauty. Next to him is of course Akaashi, who now finds himself between his overprotective friend and nervous boyfriend. On Bokuto’s right side, Kuroo and Sawamura are already asking the waiter to get them the first round of drinks.  
Trying to look away from this impossibly hot semi-stranger (and the way his muscles flex when he puts his arms on the table) seems to be harder than he had expected. Oikawa wants to know if he just imagined the other’s eyes staring for way too long at his face. If there is even a slight possibility that Iwaizumi has any interest in him, Oikawa is not going to let that chance pass him by.  
As the first shots and drinks of various nature arrive at the table, the atmosphere becomes lighter and chit-chatting easier. Oikawa can’t help but look at the way Iwaizumi checks on Akaashi and Bokuto. There is something in his gaze that is not what Kuroo had described as scary and overbearing. It has more of a concerned, motherly look. There’s an affection there that has Oikawa smiling against the rim of his glass, chuckling as the alcohol starts getting to his head.  
“Oikawa, Sawamura, have you been friends with Kuroo for a long time?”, asks politely Akaashi. Bokuto has an arm around his shoulders and the most lovestruck expression on his face as he watches his boyfriend speak. Maybe Oikawa is a bit envious, after all.  
“We became closer during one of the training camps back in high school and I haven’t been able to get rid of him ever since”, replies Oikawa while he sips on his drink. He’s never been too good with alcohol, and the fact that he needs it in order to feel more comfortable in this whole situation is definitely not helping.  
“Did you play volleyball as well?”. This time it’s Iwaizumi’s turn to ask him questions. It’s honestly unfair how good he looks by simply standing there and breathing. It annoys Oikawa a little.  
“Oikawa plays for another team”, and Tooru shoots Kuroo his worst glare, “I mean, used to play. In high school.”  
“I used to play too. Wing spiker. Though I’ve never been more skilled than any other regular player.”  
“You never had a good setter, you mean. Bet you’d be able to spike my balls without problems.” Oh, Oikawa shouldn’t go there. He knows how to play, but this guy suits his tastes way too much and he’s bound to embarrass himself if he keeps going.  
Meanwhile, Kuroo almost spits his drink, slapping his hand against the table multiple times as he gasps for fresh air.  
“Does that confidence of yours balance out your lack of brains?”.  
“Rude! I’ll have you know, I won the best setter award in junior high”.  
“Okay genius, if you say so. Wanna have a warm-up one of these days?”.  
Is Iwaizumi inviting him to hang out? When they’ve known each other for thirty minutes? Oikawa knows Kuroo will haunt him forever for this. He’d better start looking for a good gift.  
“Bring it on, but don’t chicken out later. It’s been a while since I’ve hit some balls, I need that good stretch, you know”, Tooru winks as he says that, sucking on his paper straw.  
He doesn’t register the giggles and facepalms of the others because he’s too busy watching Iwaizumi’s reaction. He probably hears Kuroo whispering a 'told ya' in Bokuto's direction. A part of his brain, one that tells him that this is too good to be true, wonders if Guns is a similar kind of guy. If he speaks with the same deep voice, if his eyes hold the same strength as the green ones piercing him right now. If he can still have his delusions, Tooru thinks, it won't hurt as much when he finds out Iwaizumi has no interest in him whatsoever.  
The momentary tension is broken by the waiter coming back with yet another round of drinks. The clinking of glass against glass and the loud cheers cover the heartbeat in Oikawa’s chest, as he gulps down one more shot and smiles to Iwaizumi, who smiles back in return. Yes, he can do this. He’s not in deep yet. 

At some point in the evening, the air inside the building feels too hot for Tooru to stay in there. There’s a sliding door close to their table, which leads to a small internal courtyard, a patio used by customers to smoke and chat. There he sits on the stone steps with his head held down, trying to stop the world from spinning around so quickly.  
“You good?”  
And there he is again. He’s got what seems to be a glass of water in his hand, which he tries to pass to Oikawa. So this guy is attractive, funny, sassy, and also a gentleman? There must definitely be a catch.  
“Good, thanks. Needed some air.”  
Iwaizumi hums, understanding. He fishes something from one of his pockets and Oikawa hears the click of a lighter.  
“Do you smoke?”, he asks.  
“Only if I’m drinking out.”  
It’s Oikawa’s turn to hum, focusing back on his shoes. There’s a calm silence between them, no pressure to speak. Minutes have gone by before Tooru finds it in himself to open his mouth again.  
“So… are you in love with Akaashi?”  
“The hell?”. Oikawa looks up, and he finds Iwaizumi looking down at him with the face of someone who just saw pigs fly. It’s kind of a funny look on him.  
“I mean, you have this very intense gaze when you look at him, so I just thought… you know”. Oikawa lets the conversation drop, sipping from his bottle as he decides that maybe he should have not asked. They are strangers to each other, after all.  
“I’m not in love with him.”  
For a short time there is a poignant silence between them. There’s noise coming from the streets and the room inside, but it’s a padded sound, as if they were listening to the inside of a seashell. Maybe it’s just the alcohol.  
“He’s never been lucky with his partners. They all had some kind of trouble or personal drama, and he’s always been swept up in their mess, trying to fix them as if it was his duty.” Iwaizumi inhales in, puffs white smoke out. “I’m just… I’m glad he has someone who treats him right. Even if that someone has only one brain cell.”  
“They seem honestly happy. I don’t know Bokuto that much, but I know Kuroo. He’s also got only one brain cell, but he’s a good guy and knows how to choose his friends.”  
“I’m not so sure about that”. Iwaizumi giggles. _Giggles_. Oikawa likes the sound, very much so.  
“Are you implying that I’m not a good friend? You know what, you’re right.” Oikawa gets up, using the wall as a guide to stand straight. He takes a couple of steps, puts both hands on his hips and turns around, the smuggest grin on his face. “I’m not a good friend. I am the best.”  
He expects some remark to come from the other, but instead all he sees is a playful smile and a gaze that is way too low to be directed at Oikawa’s eyes.  
“Did you just ogle my ass?”, he blurts without thinking.  
“Maybe. Is that a problem?”. Oikawa knows that tone, but it’s the first time he hears it from Iwaizumi. He wants to hear more of it.  
“Depends. This doesn’t come for free”, jokes Oikawa, pointing at his ass as if it was detached from his body.  
“Oh, I know.”  
“Huh?” _And he’s still looking at my ass._  
“I kind of owe you now, don’t I?”.  
Oikawa has no idea of what Iwaizumi could be talking about. His face must be giving this away, because the other puts off his cigarette in the ashtray and stuffs his hands in his pockets.  
“Nevermind. Let’s go back, I’ll buy you a drink. I feel like I’m in debt.”  
Still not knowing what he means by that, Oikawa smirks and follows him inside. 

Oikawa really lost track of time six or seven drinks ago. He has mixed a bit more than he usually does, but he’s also been flirty to the point of having Akaashi asking him to restrain from hitting on his friend so hard because “really, it’s uncomfortable Oikawa, I’d rather not know with whom he gets into bed with”.  
To his incredible disappointment, Iwaizumi has an important meeting in the morning regarding his dissertation and he really can’t miss it. When his taxi arrives, he shakes everyone’s hands and thanks them for the evening. He even gives Bokuto a hard slap on the back that leaves the other guy coughing. Akaashi is smiling though, so Oikawa takes it as a good sign.  
“I’ll see him out”, Oikawa says, though he can barely stand up. The smirk on his friends’ faces piss him off, too. If they were better friends, they would now be stopping him from trying to stumble towards Iwaizumi like a deer. Rescue him from the embarrassment, rather than whistling when Iwaizumi holds him by the shoulder so his pretty face doesn’t have a horrible meeting with the floor.  
“…sure you can walk back by yourself?”. Ah, Iwaizumi has been talking to him.  
“’s ‘kay. Tetsu will come get me if I take too long.”  
Most of the places in the area have shut down, so there’s not really anyone outside the restaurant. The taxi is parked a bit further away from the entrance, its red lights illuminating the road.  
That is when Oikawa, with the little sense left in him, wishes this night wouldn’t end. Iwaizumi is not just sexy. He’s funny, he takes Oikawa head on, and he’s not scared of saying what he thinks. There’s electric charge in the air when they look at each other – Oikawa could be imagining that with his delusions, but what about his eyes? Iwaizumi’s clear stare had been eating him alive for the last hour, enough for Oikawa to notice even in his drunken state.  
What if he was about to let go of a really good thing?  
“Do you really have to?”. _Crap_ , Oikawa thinks. _Time to shut up and get out of here_.  
“Do I really have to, what?”  
“Nevermind, it’s nothing.” Oikawa straightens his back, blinks a couple of times to get those perfect features into focus. He can do this. “It was nice meeting you, really.”  
“Is that it?”  
“What do you mean ‘is that it’?”  
“You’ve been insulting me one moment and flirting the one after for the whole evening, and this is all you can come up with?”  
“First of all, you are a brute! You almost ruined my perfect face-”  
“Can’t get any worse.”  
“How. Dare you. I am the prettiest one out of you plebs. And you”, he pushes his index finger on Iwaizumi’s chest, “you’re a gorilla. I can’t believe you said aliens don’t exist.”  
“It was your fault for not supporting your arguments with facts. Lights in the sky and crop circles are not valid proofs of extra-terrestrial life.”  
“Outrageous! I won’t waste my precious time on a non-believer.”  
“Maybe one of these days we could talk about aliens and as to why they’re horny, let’s say, over dinner?”  
“Eh?”, Oikawa is too drunk for this. Has he just been asked out _again_?  
“I’m just saying”. Iwaizumi gets really close to him. Too close, too much. His aftershave mixed with alcohol is making Oikawa’s head spin. He registers the hand messing up sweaty hair from the nape up to his scalp and _oh god please kiss me right the fuck_ now keeps going off in his head. And kissing, Iwaizumi does kiss him. But it’s a peck on the lips, it’s short, it’s unsatisfying. It’s not what Tooru wants.  
And what Oikawa wants, Oikawa takes.  
When he reaches out for Iwaizumi’s neck, he feels their teeth collide but does not back down. Oh, he’s wanted to kiss this man for the whole evening and there he is, and it’s perfect – _he is perfect._ Iwaizumi is hungry like a wolf. Smothers large hands on his hips, on the curve of his back. Licks inside Tooru’s mouth with the taste of _shochu_ still in his tongue. Tooru clings to his arms, to his shoulders, distractedly thinks how fulfilling it would be to leave nail tracks all over his back. If this guy was just half as wild as Guns’, he’d surely wreck Tooru in bed. At the mere thought, he moans against Iwaizumi’s mouth.  
That’s when the other pulls away, breathing heavily as he pushes his forehead against Oikawa’s. His hands keep both in place, close but still too far. Oikawa wants those lips on his all over again.  
“I really- I really have to go, Oikawa. _Oikawa_ ”, he says it a second time, softly, looking him in the eyes. “I’ll be waiting for you tomorrow. Don’t be late, and show me your face properly this time.” And then he laughs, and Tooru knows he’s beginning to fall all over again and he can’t be bothered to care about why his words make no sense to him right now.  
Tooru doesn’t go after him, but watches as he waves his hand from the rear seat window, the flavour of alcohol and sweat still burning on his lips as he waves back.

The realization hits Oikawa in the face as soon as he stumbles inside the apartment following two similarly drunk Daichi and Tetsurou. After an indefinite amount of time spent talking about how good of a kisser Iwaizumi was, and how much Tooru was looking forward to meet him again, and – where is he supposed to show his face tomorrow, again?  
That’s when it all clicks together.  
His voice. His body. Those hands he couldn’t stop looking at.  
How he said he’ll be waiting tomorrow, to show his face.  
Horny aliens.  
  


When Oikawa screams, neither of his flatmates bother asking why. They just close the door and let him be, watching unfazed as Oikawa jumps on the couch head first and screams into the seats. They’ll probably get complaints from the neighbours in the morning.  
Kuroo and Sawamura look at each other, knowingly – well, obviously they don’t know yet. But they have a feeling they’re going to need the whole night to sort whatever crisis Oikawa is having out.  
  


And Oikawa? Oikawa thinks that he needs a better paid job. And a bigger tub of ice cream.


	2. Chapter 2

There’s a thin line between funny drunk and messy drunk. Oikawa wants to believe that he’s just tiptoeing said line, but in truth he’s very much into the latter as of now. He giggles when a hand grabs his wrist, softly. A warning comes from slightly parted lips, and he ignores it (again). His hands grab a handful of fabric, crumble it with slim fingers. When the door opens, he can’t stop himself from exhaling out loud.

Iwaizumi is on him as soon as he locks the door. Large hands splay on his hips, moving up under his sweater. Oikawa hums when cold fingertips graze his skin, gasps in the kiss when one reaches a nipple. He rolls his hips involuntarily, but Iwaizumi thinks he’s messing with him – rightfully so – and squats down to place two hands behind Oikawa’s thighs. Tooru can’t help but shriek when he’s hoisted up against the door, brushing the embarrassment off with a nervous laugh.

“Wow, Iwa-chan. How much can you bench press?”

“Not telling”, says Hajime, peppering Oikawa’s neck with loud kisses so that Oikawa really can’t pout at him. “You’d get off on that.”

“Meanie. You know, I’m don’t like manhandling.” His fingers card through Iwaizumi’s hair, his head leans back against the door to take a good look at his face. “I like to be in control”, he continues, licking his lips for good measure. His legs wrap tighter against Iwaizumi’s sides. “But with you it’s different. It’s hot.”

“You talk too much”. Iwaizumi’s tongue is hot against his. Oikawa feels as if he’s swimming through clouds, head light with booze and euphoria, and kisses back eagerly. Fingers still scraping lightly at Iwaizumi’s scalp, barely caressing the sparse hair growing over the neck. “Quit riling me up, idiot”, is the warning that comes from the other.

“I don’t need to. You’ve wanted to fuck me since the first time we met.”

“Wrong.” Hajime pulls him closer, breathes in the crook of Tooru’s neck. Kisses it before he speaks. Licks up his bobbing throat and lowers his voice to a whisper. “I’ve wanted to fuck you since I saw you on screen.”

Should Oikawa be as turned on as he is by those words? He truly doesn’t have time to focus on the matter. The solid safety of the wall is replaced by cool air and he’s being moved around the house, body wrapped tight around Iwaizumi’s. Tooru nips at Hajime’s earlobe, sucks and bites and has the nerve to laugh when the other’s breath stutters. It’s with a hint of pride that he can feel a bulge pressing against his bottom.

“Are we still not talking about that?”

“What is there to say?”. Iwaizumi nudges a door open with a kick, brows knitted tight in a mute question.

“I don’t know. Like, how and why did you come up with the idea of masturbating online, for example.”

“Does it matter?”, asks Hajime while he lets go of Oikawa’s legs. They don’t move away from each other, grabbing at shoulders and hips to reduce their distance instead. Tooru smirks.

“I need a story to tell our grandchildren event—ouch OUCH! Iwa-chan, my hair!”

Jokes aside, Oikawa likes the way Iwaizumi makes him feel. He’s got a sharp tongue, strict glare, and has insulted Oikawa more times already in a single night than Oikawa can ever remember any of his friends in years. The hands, though. Those fingers which have likewise known the feeling of a ball against them and the sensation of spike after spike. Warm palms cradling his face with fondness and making him rasp when they are ever so rough. Oikawa imagines distractedly how it would feel to fuck himself on those fingers and whimpers in another one of Hajime’s kisses. He only notices that he has been quietly stripped off his upper clothes when lips press against his bare shoulder, shirt sliding down from his overheated skin towards the floor.

“I needed the extra money and I like the attention. Happy now?”, whispers Iwaizumi, and there’s no sign of a lie in his voice, not in his eyes. Deep green staring into Oikawa’s brown ones. Oikawa is completely smitten and can only smile in reply, nosing down Iwaizumi’s throat.

“Will you keep on doing your shows?”.

“You don’t want me to?”, Iwaizumi asks in a light tone, but his face looks serious. Oikawa wonders if Hajime would really stop if he asked him to (though he doesn’t feel like he has any right to).

“That’s not for me to decide. Although I have to admit”, he sucks loudly under Iwaizumi’s sharp jawline, “I wouldn’t mind joining you.”

And actually, when did they even get in front of the bed? That’s where he tumbles down, exhaling an “oof” and a giggle when Hajime lands on him. His voice is but a whisper when he speaks.

“No way I’m letting others see you like this.”

“Oh my god, Iwa-chan! Are you the jealous type?” Tooru full on laughs, but it’s broken by a moan when Hajime’s hand moves from his stomach to his groin. Oikawa’s hips thrust forward, his mind unfocused. Alcohol and excitement are working wonders, and all he wants is hands and kisses all over him. He opens his eyes again to stare into Iwaizumi’s.

“Yes.” A free hand locks into his scalp, massaging sweetly, then yanks back. Not enough to hurt, just enough for Oikawa to moan, open mouthed and shameless.

Oikawa has a couple of retorts he would like to use, but not when Iwaizumi starts trailing down his collar bones, kissing and sucking as he moves down. There are tiny jolts all over his damp skin. Hajime’s hand leaves his hair to move over his chest, light and feathery. It makes Oikawa tremble with how good this is, how the contrast between delicate touches and Iwaizumi’s hungry stare riles him up. Teeth find the skin above his navel and Tooru bites his lips, scratches at Hajime’s shoulders with how much he wants those teeth everywhere. His focus shifts again on his own aching cock when Iwaizumi peels Oikawa off his jeans, throwing them aside. When he pauses to do the same with his own, Oikawa finds out that he misses his hands. Misses his lips. Even though he’s basking in the tiny show of the other getting naked bit by bit. Iwaizumi pulls up his undervest from the back, and that’s when the realization _really_ hits Oikawa in the face: this is the same guy Oikawa has been fantasizing about for months, pining after the delusion of a kind-hearted, loving boyfriend behind the hot body he saw on screen. And there he is, about to get way more than what he bargained for.

“You’ve gone quiet.”

Oikawa tries to focus again, staring into Iwaizumi’s eyes. He doesn’t want to be sappy. They haven’t known each other for long, and while there’s definitely attraction on both sides, he doesn’t want to believe that this guy will be more than a fling. He’d like to believe that, but he’s been in enough relationships to know how these things end. Oikawa doesn’t feel like going through heartbreak all over again.

He momentarily discards his thoughts with a smirk.

“Just thinking. I feel like a groupie who gets to shag her favourite idol.”

“So you’re focusing on your fantasy and not the real deal?”. As if to make a point, Iwaizumi bites down on one of Oikawa’s thighs. The teeth stay there, they suck until Oikawa’s fingers find Iwaizumi’s hair. Oikawa has a sassy reply on the tip of his tongue, but he quickly swallows it while Iwaizumi does the same with his aching cock.

Tooru buckles up, a hand staying on his stomach to keep him flat on the bed. Iwaizumi teases him, barely drops his lips past the tip and goes back up,

“Pass me the lube. First drawer.”

“Really, Iwa-chan?” Oikawa shakes the half empty bottle. “You maneater.”

“You should know by the amount of times you’ve watched my shows how I’ve been using it.” His voice drops, but his face gets impossibly closer, breath ghosting over Oikawa’s lips. “So, will you shut up and let me take care of you or you’ll keep on being an ass?”

If Oikawa has something to say, he keeps it for himself. Instead he focuses on the slick sound of lube being poured over Iwaizumi’s hand, on the trail a wet finger left from the tip of his cock down to his ass. He doesn’t manage to moan when one of those fingers enters him because Hajime’s mouth is on his once again, slow and mellow, sucking in the noise and air. The rhythm of the kiss and that of his hand don’t match up, nor does the heartbeat in Oikawa’s chest. When the knuckles are all in, the other fingers touch the cleft of his ass and he feels like curling into himself when it feels like too much altogether. Light touches on the skin of his ass is a new thing to be turned on by. Bright eyes find his, the skin of his forehead sweaty when Iwaizumi bumps it with his own.

“Good?”, he asks.

“Good”, breathes out Oikawa, and he means it.

The wince he does when another finger joins the first is patiently forgotten to Iwaizumi’s voice, soothing and warm in his hear. Half on top of Oikawa, half with his side on the bed, using Tooru’s arm as a pillow. Whispers things Oikawa doesn’t get, too lost in the feeling of the beautiful hand fingering him open, so slowly that he thinks they’ve been on the bed for hours already. His arm is starting to get sore, so he takes a handful of Hajime’s hair and pulls him closer to his chest, to his pounding heart. Iwaizumi’s tongue goes to suck on a nipple and it’s perfect. Oikawa can’t help but use his free hand to pump himself, feeling the orgasm approach.

“Hey, slow down now. Oikawa”, Iwaizumi’s voice drips all over him like honey, different from when they were sitting at the restaurant and bickering and kicking each other at the shanks underneath the table. Oikawa wants to hear more of it.

“Slow it down. Follow my pace.” Tooru complies, trying to match the slow thrust of Iwaizumi’s fingers inside his body. There’s a string of curses on his tongue that he doesn’t say out loud because he likes to hear Hajime’s breaths more. When the other fastens his pace, Oikawa does the same with his fist. When Iwaizumi stops, he does too, looking down and caressing the other’s hand with his fingers. Then Iwaizumi is sliding up, reaching out for the same drawer Oikawa took the lube from and taking a square packet out of it. It doesn’t take long for him to open it and roll the condom down his own dick. Oikawa watches and can’t help licking his lips, feeling a bit parched at the sight of Iwaizumi’s length.

“Iwa-chan, I’m kind of in the mood to suck your dick right now.”

“Next time maybe. Come here.” Iwaizumi opens his arms and Oikawa snuggles between them. He thinks about the possibility of a ‘next time’ and smiles. Then Iwaizumi is lining them up and Oikawa comes back to the present because there’s no way he’s going to miss this. He places both hands on Iwaizumi’s chest and pushes himself up, hovering above Hajime, with the tip of his cock almost where he wants it.

“Don’t chicken out on me, Killing Guns, sir.”

Iwaizumi doesn’t.

Oikawa feels the stretch, but makes an effort to think about how good this will feel once the discomfort of being penetrated is over. There is no pain, Hajime has been so thorough with foreplay that Oikawa has probably never been so comfortable bottoming before. But it’s been a while since the dildo, a long time since he’s had a partner, and he can’t force his body to speed up more than this. He’s already trying incredibly hard not to come. He yelps when fingers wrap around his cock, this time with clear intent. He searches for Iwaizumi’s eyes and finds them half-lidded, switching back and forth from Tooru’s face to his cock, almost making sure that every movement is making him feel good. If there was a protest in the back of his mind, it disappears with the intensity of his orgasm. Oikawa jerks into Iwaizumi’s fist, feeling hot all over, and comes on tight fingers and toned abs with barely a sound. Slow and steady, Iwaizumi pumps him slowly, drags it out until Oikawa’s whole body trembles from overstimulation.

Hajime kisses Tooru’s head, hands digging into his hips with the urge to thrust and make a mess out of him. Iwaizumi waits patiently, tilts his head to look Oikawa into his big brown eyes, at his long eyelashes and reddened cheeks, his lips slightly parted while he tries to catch his breath. The word comes out in a whisper.

“Pretty.”

Tooru bites his bottom lip. He’s sure he must be blushing and suddenly feels like punching Iwaizumi, take the churning feeling in his guts and slap the other with it. Instead he gives a tentative roll of his body and smiles when the effect shows on Iwaizumi’s face.

“I’ll show you pretty, Iwa-chan.”

Oikawa has always loved power bottoming. Riding his partners to completion, watching as they come undone underneath him. He wasn’t joking when he said to Iwaizumi that he liked to be in control. He absolutely loves feeling so full, the tingling in his back quickly being replaced by pleasure as he rocks back and forth on Iwaizumi’s cock. His thighs begin to hurt but it’s a good kind of hurt, the stretch of his skin nice and warm. One of his hands smear his own cum on Iwaizumi’s pubes, moves forward looking for skin to grab. Hajime lock their hands together instead, taking one to his own mouth to kiss while he looks Oikawa in the eyes. The motion is so intimate, so affectionate that Oikawa rolls down with more strength than he intended to, moaning when Hajime’s dick scrapes his insides just right.

The hands resting on his hips trail down to his spread thighs and clench, while Iwaizumi’s head falls back on the pillows. There’s a low growl in his voice every time Oikawa sinks, at every drop of skin against skin. One hand moves back up to Oikawa’s dick, slowly pumping it to hardness again. When Oikawa shivers, Iwaizumi does the same. The other hand finds Oikawa’s ass, rough fingers reaching for the place where they’re connected and — Tooru’s arm strength gives away and he’s fully slouched against Iwaizumi’s chest, breath fast on his shoulder.

“Might use a little help right now”, he jokes, but Iwaizumi is quick in wrapping both hands around his waist again. When he pushes up, Oikawa’s hands go back to his head, clinging to short hair damp with sweat. The rhythm grows faster when his lips find Iwaizumi’s, chapped and with a taste of whiskey still lingering there. Tooru loves it, he thinks. Loves Iwaizumi’s smell and touch, loves his fingers and his perfect arms, his green eyes, his foul mouth, his cock buried deep inside when Hajime starts thrusting like he means it. Loves all of this, and wonders if love is what Hajime sees reflected in his eyes while he comes with a low moan, reaching his orgasm with Oikawa kissing his neck and jawline until Hajime is done and can feel his heart almost leaping out of his ribcage with how fast it’s beating.

“Good?”, asks Tooru, his voice broken and his fingers already around his full erection. He almost can’t believe he’s already hard again, but logic seems to be defied every time he’s with Iwaizumi.

“Great. Perfect. Wow”, is the curt response he gets, and Oikawa can’t help but giggle at the other’s loss of words. It’s a tiny victory he will annoy him for later.

“Amazing, ‘cause I need to come again.”

Then Oikawa is straightening his spine and raising his ass up enough for Iwaizumi to slip out. He ignores the flinch of his body and reaches for one of Iwaizumi’s hands, pulling it towards his back in a silent request. Iwaizumi understands and his fingers replace his cock inside Oikawa, two going as deep as possible while Oikawa makes a show of arching his back, fisting his own leaking cock.

“So pretty. The prettiest. Can’t believe I got to have you for real. _Fuck_.”

Memories of the live show come back and overlap in Oikawa’s mind and he’s done for. He drops his weight on Hajime’s fingers and comes one more time with a broken moan, comes for what seems like an eternity, and Hajime fingers him throughout it, makes a mess out of him until he’s sobbing because it’s too much. Only then Iwaizumi pulls his fingers out and wipes them on the bedsheets, placing a kiss on Oikawa’s forehead. They are both a mess but Oikawa can’t be bothered to care. He’s exhausted but so comfortable in Iwaizumi’s warm embrace, in his arms circling him and skin sticking to his own. Words stop at the back of his throat before he can say them out loud. He wants to do this again, but he’s not sure he can do so without feelings getting a hold of himself.

“Look, I know it’s not exactly pillow talk, but… do you think we could make this a thing?”

“A thing?”

“Yeah, like. A recurring thing.”

Oikawa feels his mouth turn down. When it comes to emotions he can put a break to his words, but they always end up showing on his face. Before he can reply, Iwaizumi smothers the hair away from his forehead and looks him in the eyes.

“Stupid. What I mean is–” A pause. A scowl at Oikawa’s pout. A sigh. “I’m asking you out, moron.”

“You want to go out? With me?”, Oikawa points to himself, dumbfounded.

“You don’t want to?”

“I do! I want to! Oh my god. Oh my god.” Then a laugh, and Oikawa is kissing Iwaizumi’s lips, his face, peppers every bit of skin with loud smooches. “I _really_ want to go out with you, Iwa-chan.”

“Cool”, Iwaizumi replies. His scowl softens and there’s the hint of a smile on his lips and – _oh no_ , Oikawa thinks. _I’m in so deep._

When they tangle into the sheets trying to get out of bed, Iwaizumi rolls on top of him and Oikawa calls him a gorilla, tells him he’s heavy, then proceeds to smooch him some more. In the corner of his eye he sees a metal desk and a neat computer, a simple black chair where his pants have somehow ended up landing upon. He smiles and turns his gaze back towards Hajime, planting a kiss on his lips.

“Iwa-chan, let’s go buy some ice cream.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Me? Having a thing for Iwaizumi’s arms/hands? *pulls out that one manga panel where he destroys the iron wall* More likely than you think.
> 
> I can’t believe so many people read and commented this. I’m… I have no words. But you all have my gratitude. I’m terrible at keeping up with things and knowing that people like this story was huge fuel for writing it. Y’all have been lovely and the best motivation to give these two the ending they deserve. [Furudate too, ILYSM]
> 
> I hope you are keeping safe. Until next time 💪🦖👽✌️

**Author's Note:**

> You can find me [on all these wonderful websites](https://linktr.ee/yukizerotredici). Guess what? There's gay in all of them.


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